A Day In Your Shoes
by BlindinglyArticulate
Summary: Another body!switch story with an AU romance. Remus and Lily, as Heads of Hogwarts, are required to spend two weeks in each others' bodies. Will the Marauders, especially that mind-reading Sirius, sniff them out?
1. Suggestions

**DISCLAIMER:** Don't own nobody, y'hear? Don't y'all sue me, now!

**NOTE:** Yeah, I know this plotline's been overused so much it's boring already, but I couldn't resist. It's required, I think, for every fanfiction author to write a typical story. So here's mine. A Remus/Lily body!switch humour. [I am not British, by the way. Just wish I was.]

**Chapter 1: Suggestions**

"Professor McGonagall, you _can't_ be serious."

_No,_ I heard my inner Sirius shout inside my head. _I am!_

I shook my head to get rid of the grinning Sirius and tried to focus on what Professor McGonagall had just suggested. It seemed impossible. Improbable. In fact, I wasn't entirely sure it was _legal_.

Next to me, Lily Evans, Hogwarts Head Girl, was sitting forward in her chair and gaping at the Deputy Headmistress. Professor McGonagall herself wore the same severe expression as usually graced her features, but I could swear there was something of a smirk on her lips.

"I assure you I am, Miss Evans," she said, addressing Lily. "It is one of Hogwarts' oldest traditions, dating back nearly five hundred years. Now," she leaned toward us slightly, lips at their thinnest. "I have seen many, many Heads go through this before, and I can tell you with absolute confidence that every one of them benefited tremendously from this experience."

"But—but—" Lily seemed at a loss for words.

"Professor," I spoke up, "how exactly is this supposed to work? Is it just a long-lasting Polyjuice potion?" Despite the calmness of my words, inside my mind was still reeling.

Well, to be honest, anyone's would be.

Professor McGonagall had just revealed—quite matter-of-factly, mind you—that as Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts, Lily and I had to _switch bodies._ Apparently every Head Boy and Girl had to do it. It was required.

The whole thing was just perverse.

"Not exactly, Mr Lupin." With a start, I realised that McGonagall was answering my question. "Your bodies will not actually change to mimic the other's, as Polyjuice Potion will do. Rather, you, as individuals and personalities, will be switched into the other's body." She stared at us over her sharp rectangular glasses. "Understand?"

I nodded mutely, while Lily just sat looking helpless and slightly sick.

"Now," McGonagall continued. "There is one major condition: no one but you two (and myself, naturally) must know about this. Not even your closest friends." At those last words she looked at me. "Not even the infamous Marauders, Mr Lupin."

I heard the tiny bubble of optimism inside me pop with a dejected sort of sound. There was no way, _no way_ that Lily would be able to pull me off well enough to convince James and Sirius and Peter. They knew all my quirks and, to be honest, I'd always had a vague suspicion that Sirius had some sort of telepathic power that enabled him to read my mind and predict my every move. Lily Evans did not know my every move. Sirius Black would sniff her out like the dog he was.

At that point, I failed to fully register the other problem, the much bigger problem, the problem that involved me turning into a horrible bloodthirsty beast once a month.

_We'll be back in our own bodies by then,_ my horribly insensible common sense told me slyly. _No need to tell her about it._

"Yes, Professor," my mouth spewed.

Lily Evans was starting to look very depressed, and I tried my hand at a joke. Something to cheer her up.

"Come on, Lily," I said. "Will it really be _that_ horrible, being me? It might be fun!"

Lily balked at me. I balked at myself. _Fun_?! How in Hell and Heaven's name could this possibly be _fun?_ I was going to be trapped inside the body of a female—and not like that, but in the terrible way that would require me to be an actual living, breathing, menstruating, hormonal teenage girl for an entire week and a half.

I nearly gagged.

Professor McGonagall summoned two small vials from a nearby shelf and handed them to us.

"Drink this before going to bed tonight," she said. "It should be in full effect by morning."

I nodded again, and slipped the vial into my shirt's chest pocket. Lily kept it clenched in a tight fist. Her head was nodding, but her face looked as though she disagreed with its frivolous movement.

"Good night," said Professor McGonagall, and now there was no denying it—there was a definite smirk on her face. "And, please," she added as we stood up to leave. "Be responsible."

Lily took a deep breath.

"So," she managed.

I swallowed.

"So," I agreed.

She said nothing more, and I decided I should be the man in the situation. After all, soon I would be a man only in my memories.

"Are you, you know, okay with this? Lily?" I asked. "It does seem kind of—"

"No," Lily interrupted, and at first I thought it was in response to my question. "No," she repeated. "I'm fine. We have to do this, Professor McGonagall said. Otherwise we can't be...." The sentence ended in a nervous gulp.

"Right."

We were standing in the Gryffindor Tower common room, each at the foot of our respective dormitory staircases, each holding the vials Professor McGonagall had given us.

"Sorry about this, Lily," I said, though I had no idea how it was my fault.

"It's not your fault," she said, and smiled. It appeared to be genuine. "Well, bottom's up, eh?"

I grinned—mine wasn't genuine—and downed the vial. It had no taste, but a rather odd texture—like swallowing congealing lard through a small straw. Then it was all over and Lily and I were left standing, staring at each other with goofy grins on our faces.

"Good night, Remus," she said. "I suppose I'll be seeing rather a lot of you tomorrow." And with a saucy wink, she disappeared up the stairs.

_That Lily Evans,_ I said to myself, knowing my brain was just trying to be kind and distract me from the horrific situation I was about to be enveloped in. _Always full of surprises._

With legs full of lead I trudged up the stairs to the dormitory, dreading what tomorrow would bring.

------


	2. Discoveries and Complications

**Author's Note:** I wrote this a loooong time ago, and am now deciding to give it you y'all! I'm not sure how much this story will progress-I'm working on a different fic at the moment that's taking up my concentration...Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

**Chapter Two: Discoveries and Complications**

Lily awoke and for a few blessed moments nothing at all seemed out of ordinary. The steady breathing of those in deep sleep surrounded her—she was always the first to wake up. Then she opened her eyes and remembered the previous night.

_Shit._

She sat up too quickly and was rewarded with a throbbing behind her eyes.

_But they weren't her eyes._

Trembling slightly, she raised her hands and stared at hands that were not hers; they were too big and long and nail-bitten to be hers. She took one of these new hands and felt her hair—it was shorter and straighter and had the sort of silky feeling she'd always wished her own could accomplish.

A couple of Find-Your-Happy-Place moments later and she was getting up, out of bed, testing out legs much longer than she was used to. She nearly fainted at the sight that greeted her.

The room was covered with debris. And clothes. And food. Boxers and Quidditch gear were strewn about the room, trailing out of trunks and hanging on top of wardrobes. Magazines of a cringe-worthy nature spilled out from under one of the beds, and under another bed lay packets of crisps and half-eaten chocolate bars. Lily was pleased to see that her own space was rather well organised, with clothes properly folded and books lined up neatly on a bedside table.

Ignoring for now some of the more horrific sights [one of the magazine's covers, a photograph of a busty witch her mother's age, winked rather flirtatiously at her], Lily stumbled into the bathroom, which was surprisingly clean. Clean, perhaps, but certainly not organised. Razors and toothbrushes littered the counter-top. Lily wondered when the boys had had time to mess up their room so; it was only the second week of school.

She took a deep breath, steeled herself against the sink, and looked up into the mirror.

Remus Lupin stared back at her.

Well, no shit. What had she been expecting?

She'd never really looked at him up close before, but had always recognised him as being suitably good-looking. Not sexily handsome and smooth, like the irritating Sirius Black, but more in a quiet sort of manner. She noticed as she examined him many small scars crisscrossing his face. One especially long one ran from the corner of his eye down nearly to his jawbone. She wondered what Remus did that would cause him to be so scarred; his gentlemanly demeanour did not suggest the type of person who would go Grindylow hunting for fun.

She prodded experimentally at her face. His face. Their face.

Stubble scratched her finger, but she decided to leave it for today. No need to complicate things. And, as she had commanded him, Remus had taken a shower the previous night. They could save that uncomfortable encounter for later.

She tried not to think about what would happen when she would have to use the toilet.

So wrapped up in her thought she was that she didn't hear the footsteps approaching until James Potter was standing right behind her.

"Grornin oon," he mumbled. Apparently he was not a morning person.

"Good morning," she replied, jumping at the sound of her deep voice.

With a loud snort of laughter, he moved past her to stand in front of a urinal.

_Holy crap. Crap crap crap!_

And then he ruined her exit plan by talking to her. He was talking to her. While he was peeing. And she was stuck in the same room, eyes fixed on her Remus reflection, finger tapping a nervous pattern on the counter.

"So what did Minnie want last night?"

Swallowing her disapproval at his calling McGonagall "Minnie", she stuttered in an unnecessarily loud voice, "Nothing. Just, you know, Head stuff." She was trying to sound nonchalant and carefree, as boys seemed to, but thought she sounded slightly constipated.

"Right. So..." he hesitated, as though nervous about saying what he wanted to. But James Potter was never nervous. That was one of the most insufferable things about him! "What about Evans, eh?" he breathed.

Oh. It was clear now that that had been what he'd really asked in his first question. Done, he walked over to the sink, pushing her aside slightly, and dipped his fingertips under the flow of water. Somewhere in the background, an alarm clock wailed.

She cleared her throat. Everybody in Hogwarts knew that James Potter fancied Lily Evans. All the teachers knew it, all the students knew it, even all the ghosts knew it. Peeves the Poltergeist would occasionally pester Lily with chants of "Potter lurves Evaaanss!" or "Will you marry me, Evans?" followed by loud and obnoxious smooching noises.

"She's fine. Nothing to report," Lily replied, picking up a toothbrush at random and squirting toothpaste on it.

James' brow furrowed in confusion.

"That's Pete's, mate," he said.

"Wossmine?" a groggy voice croaked.

Lily turned to see a shirtless Peter Pettigrew standing slouched and squinty-eyed by the door, peering at them both through a haze of early-morning sleepiness. She was surprised to see how short Peter was from Remus' perspective—as a girl, she'd always been shorter than him.

"Oh," she said, putting down the toothbrush.

"Cheers, Moony," said Peter, and began brushing his teeth.

"Yeah," she responded. This was all so surreal. She had to talk to Remus before she went neurotic and started cleaning the bedroom. So far, she was rather pleased with herself at how cool and collected she'd been.

James was finishing up shaving and Peter was brushing his teeth, and the room was relatively quiet. It was extremely odd, standing here and watching the great Marauder pranksters go through such normal routines as shaving and using the toilet. They seemed almost human.

She had time to brush her own teeth (_green toothbrush, Lily, green toothbrush)_ and was in the middle of washing her face when the entire bathroom suddenly became dominated by an overwhelming presence.

Sirius Black.

Who, it seemed, was not affected by things such as early morning grogginess.

"Good morning, my fellow Marauders," he announced—he made it sound like a statement more than a greeting.

"Says who?" Lily grumbled, trying not to marvel at how he could remain so carelessly handsome, even first thing in the morning. It was one of those things about Sirius; he was the sort of person who was so stunningly attractive that even if you hated him, his family, and everything he stood for, you couldn't help but sigh in appreciation.

"Oh, it's a Moody Moony today, is it?" He jabbed a finger into her chest. "Is it that time of the month again, my Moonykins?"

Lily blustered. An odd mixture of an affronted snort and a shocked gasp escaped her. But it was easier to retort when you stood a good two inches above him. "Bl—Sirius," she scoffed, pushing away his finger. "I know you enjoy poking fun at my dislike for sports, but don't you think that's a bit much?"

They turned to stare at her.

The room froze.

_Damn_.

Waking up was difficult.

I knew in my mind what would happen when I opened my eyes. Where I would be. _Who_ I would be. I tried to postpone it as long as possible, but even if I couldn't _see_ it, I could _feel_ it. The long hair tickling my nose, the blankets warming shoulders left bare by a tank top. There were other differences too, ones I tried to keep my mind off of. Ones attached to my chest.

I let out a pathetic groan, squeezing my eyes shut.

_Okay._ I told myself firmly. _Get up and face it. Lying in bed will not help._

_Right._

I opened my eyes, sat up, and peered tentatively through the parting in the bed's surrounding curtains. The room was so _neat_. Well, compared to ours, anyway. It was also occupied by three half-dressed teenage girls. They were walking around the room, in and out of the loo, all in various stages of their morning routines. Alice Prewett passed by my—Lily's—bed dressed in only a towel, while Dorcas Meadows (who, I quickly reminded myself, was Lily's closest friend) sang as she took curlers from her hair with vague waves of her wand. Emmeline Vance, the last of the seventh year Gryffindor girls, was patting her face with some sort of cloth that looked very poofy and frilly and just unutterably _girly_.

I stood up. I felt that was the best way to start.

The first thought that ran like a marquee across my mind was: _I'm short!_

I was short, uncomfortable in my body, and my voice was higher than it had been for years.

It was like puberty all over again.

"Lillian!" It was Dorcas, who had shouted the name in a singsong tone. "Why are you so sleepy today?"

"Well you could've woken me up," I said, grimacing at her, at the situation, and at life in general for being so unutterably unfair. Not waiting for a response, I made my way into the bathroom.

Four boxes, identical in every way save colour, were lined up on the counter directly in front of the mirror. Each was labelled with a small nametag. This would have been extremely useful if not for the fact that the boxes were entirely empty, their contents spilled across the marble counter-top. There were containers and tubes of makeup, hair curlers, hair sprays, and something that looked like—oh dear Merlin was that a _tampon?_

I couldn't do this. I couldn't. What if I—what if Lily got her—and I—oh dear _Gods. _Being a _werewolf_ was preferable to this. Scratching my own skin off once a month was infinitely better. What was McGonagall thinking?

I had to talk to Lily.

Desperately.

By the time I got downstairs, panting but fully dressed (which was no easy feat—bras are easy enough to take off, but getting them on is _ridiculous_), I was fed up. More fed up than I had been previously, which is to say that I was fairly close to a mental breakdown, something which hadn't happened since the O.W.L. exams two years previously.

So caught up was I in my own miserable reverie that I didn't even notice _myself_, standing at the foot of the staircase, until I took hold of my own arm. Which was just as strange as it sounded.

For there was Lily, in my own body, scowling down at me with a ferocious look I sincerely hoped never made it onto my face again.

"_Remus!"_ she hissed. "I can't _do this!"_ I opened my mouth to concur, but she wasn't finished. "Your friends are absolutely bloody _mad_! Black already practically knows I'm not you, I think he can read my _mind_, and Potter keeps asking me about _me_, and they all think _I'm _insane because I actually stood _up_ to Black!"

"Lily, calm down!" I glanced around the common room. There were a few sleepy students of various years making their way through the room and down to breakfast, but not one of them was even glancing in our direction. "Let's go to Professor McGonagall's office," I suggested, just to be safe. Lily, who seemed beyond comprehensible speech, followed in my wake, grumbling under her breath.

"So," I said, once we were in a relatively empty fourth floor corridor. "What exactly happened this morning?"

Lily huffed. Her pout was so characteristically _Lily_ that for a moment I almost saw her own freckled face there rather than mine.

"Black made a completely inappropriate, sexist comment," she said.

Okay. So far, nothing out of the ordinary.

"He asked me if it was 'that time of month' again."

Ah.

I swallowed. "What did you respond? Exactly?"

Lily frowned. "I said that just because I (meaning _you)_ don't like sports, doesn't mean he can say things like that. He's so insufferable. I honestly don't know how you stand him."

I wasn't about to start an argument about whether or not Sirius was mature or not. I knew he wasn't. But that wasn't the pressing issue, at the moment. I hurried to keep up with Lily's longer strides, something I'd have to get used to.

"What did he say to that?" I asked, throat dry with dread.

"They all just stood there, gaping at me like brain-dead fish. Then Black kind of frowned and went to brush his teeth." She glanced at me. "Do you think he noticed?"

"Well," I said as we turned the corner and began climbing yet another staircase. "Well, that wasn't a very, er, _me_ thing to say, you see."

"I know, Remus. That's your problem." She wheeled to face me, forcing me to stop short or run straight into her. I looked up and was startled to see the fiery anger in my hazel eyes. "You have to speak up, once in a while. You can't just stand there and take it."

At this, I felt a spark of agitation ignite. She didn't know anything about me, anything about _us_, the Marauders, our relationships and dynamics. She didn't understand Sirius' little jibe; she thought he was being sexist, but he was just being Sirius. The only thing he knew how to be.

"I don't just stand there and take it," I protested.

Lily shook her head. "You just did. You could've shouted back at me, but you didn't."

"What," I said, feeling a thrill of anger ring through my head, "you want me to start a row in the middle of the corridor?"

Lily paused, frowned, then continued walking. "No, I'm just saying. Sometimes maybe you do."

Shaking my head at the capriciousness of girls' moods, I followed after her.


End file.
